Solid old wood door

before me

creaks on its hinges,

leads me in to a scene

of decay.

 

Essentially,

a ‘D’ shaped room,

rounded bare brick walls,

years of neglect,

cobwebs hang eerily

from edges of

cracked, greyed ceiling

and hover above

the bare light bulb

hanging on an

ancient cord.

 

Chipped once-white

enamel sink

against the only flat

plastered wall,

misshaped drainer

stained from years

of tea and coffee.

Filthy wall cupboard above

with doors that will

never close again.

 

Dusty wooden floor,

breadcrumbs swept

into a pile

under spiral staircase,

wicker broom

still standing beside.

 

In the centre,

a stylish new oak table,

four high back

oak chairs,

incongruous among

such decay.

 

A business man recently

bought this windmill,

how interesting

will it be to see

what happens next...